Music of War
by Tiger7
Summary: Title sucks, I know. Matt is a soldier in war. Mia is the girl he meets. Has he met his match? They have to escape a terrorized country. Will they survive? Read and find out! Flames are welcome! Please review!


This is my first fanfic! I know, some spelling errors, but it will be ok. All characters belong to me. Flames are welcome!! Thanks for stopping by  
and checking out my fic! Hope ya like it...hehe! ^_^;  
  
Music of War  
  
It was a cold, dark night. The air crisp and cold. Screams of pain and agony crescendoed through the evergreen forest. Bullets speeding through the air made their targets. Blood stained the icy, freezing snow. The moon's light had a sadistic light that shined over the thick forests. The pale blue light of it cast an eerie shadow over the world. Death was in the air. He could feel it. He could smell it. The dreadful smell was not new to this soldier's nose. It became a sort of common thing for him. But tonight was different. He was running. Running as fast as he could. Away from the music of war. Panting and gasping for each breath. Tearing through the brush and past towering trees. The cold whipped through his hair, but it wasn't the main problem. He was running. For his life. His fellow comrades were dead. All of them. He was the last. The last one...With a secret that could destroy the enemy. Deadly. He had to live. For justice to be served. He kept running. Despite his gunshot wounds that were throbbing in his right shoulder and left knee. The world was becoming dizzy. Spinning faster and faster. The yells of the enemy were garbled in a Russian language through the wood. Echoing through the forests and plains. He limped as quickly as possible, coming across a river. Only pausing for a second, he crossed the icy cold waters, praying to get away. He had been running for miles and miles now. They wouldn't give up. They'd find him, yes. The thought echoed through his mind. But instinct told him not to stop. Run (when I mean run, in any cases, I mean he limps as fast as he can).  
An hour later, he came across a small village. Tiny homes scattered he area. He looked down upon the village from a thicket. The freezing temperature was finally getting to him. He needed shelter and a place to dress his wounds. If he was to keep going, it would be vital for him to stop and regroup himself. He paused for a minute, feeling dizzy and the world spinning around him. He staggered toward a fallen tree and sat there for a minute, feeling he could go no longer. The instinct in his head told him to keep going. Don't stop....for anything. He looked down at his gun. His vision made it look as if he was holding two of them. He was out of ammo. He had no bullets. He dropped the gun in the snow, now that it was useless. He had no more protection. He looked groggily at his wound in his shoulder. It was deep. The pain was terrible. Undescribable. His clothing was drenched in the blood from it. He lightly touched the wound and examined the blood on his fingertips. It was thick and sticky. He looked down at his knee. It was just as bad. It hurt just as bad. It was deep too. He could hear the faint sound of his predators. Or was it in his head?He lifted himself painstakingly off of the fallen tree trunk. He kept going, fearing they would find him. He looked behind him to see that his blood was staining the white snow. He was leaving a trail. He stopped and felt the world spin faster and faster. "No....not now..." he said to himself. It kept spinning. He knew he had lost a lot of blood. He could feel it. He staggered, barely holding onto his consciousness. His vision began narrowing. He fell to his (good) knee, trying hard to stay consciouss. He couldn't. He knew it. He gave into the darkness. He collapsed.  
  
~******~  
  
The battle was fierce. His troops were still alive, fighting with him. He had just come across evidence that could tear the Russians apart. Chemical, biological, nuclear weapons, and even evidence of genocide. The murder of hundreds. He was a Seal. Used to all of that. But the countless hundreds made him awe-struck all the same. The stench of death could make one vomit. He had the evidence. He had the pictures, that could destroy the nation. Then, there was the attack. They were outnumbered. By a couple of hundred. All they could do was fight. Until they were faltering. There was no use to fight. They had to flee. Run for their lives and for justice's sake. But, it just got worse. Most killed. And worse, some were captured. He was the only one left. All of his troops....dead. He was the only survivor. He had to live for himself, his troops, and the hundreds that had died, and the hundreds that could be next to die. Russia was rising again. World domination. He had to keep running. To stop a world catastrophe. He could hear the screams and cries of the wounded and dying, the foorsteps quickly lurching from behind. The fear of being caught. They were after him. He had to keep going. Keep running. Faster. Faster.....  
  
~*****~  
  
He woke with a startle. Cold sweat dripped down his face. He looked around at his surroundings. ~Where am I?~ he asked himself. He was in a small log house. A fire was roaring in the fireplace. The warmth of it was soothing and relaxing. How did he get there? He was laying on the floor in a corner. A warm blanket covered his body. He propped himself up on his elbows. The preasure hurt his shoulder. He winced and groaned a little, and let himself back to the floor. Just then, someone walked through a doorway. An enemy? He prepared himself for the confrontation, ready for what attack he could do, despite his weakness and helplessness. The dark figure walked into the light. It was a woman. Her hair was long and black. Her eyes were chestnut brown. She wore a long sleeved sweater and denim jeans. She appeared to be about in her 20's. He was confused. Was she the enemy? She didn't have a gun or weapon of any type. She didn't even appear to be hostile. Where was he anyway? "You're awake." she commented frankly. He remained silent, trying to gather his thoughts. "What happened....and where am I?" he asked confused. "Well,I found you unconscious in the forest about a mile from here and I helped bring you in. And, you're in the village about a mile from the forest." "....why...did you help me?" he asked, remembering his collapse. "Well, for one, you're American. I noticed on your uniform. And, you seemed to be hurt and needed some treatment." He reamined silent. She sat down in a chair. He tried to pick himself up again, but the pain throbbed through his shoulder and knee. "You need to take it easy." she said. "You're still weak." He ignored her advice and tried to get up anyway. After realizing she was right, he obeyed. "How long have I been out?" he asked. "It will be 2 days tonight." "He looked out the window and saw the night sky. He still felt tired. But he wanted to keep moving. "I don't even know your name," she began. "I'm Mia, and you are?" she asked. He was silent for a moment. Could he trust her with his name? She seemed ordinary, but she could be one of them. He decided to say the truth. "Matt..." he spoke. "I knew a Matt at one time," she replied. "Except, he's dead" "Well, that's nice karma." Matt said. "Well, let's check your bandages now." she said "I should be going." he said, changing the subject. "You're not going anywhere in this condition." she replied. She walked over to him and kneeled down beside him. He backed away, not trusting her. "You don't trust me, do you?" she said softly. Matt didn't reply. "You must've been through a lot." she started again. "You can only imagine." he replied. "Listen. I know it won't help much, but you have my word. I promise I'm not the bad guy. I'm just here to help you." He looked into her eyes. They were filled with clarity and promise. They seemed to tell him everything that was on her mind. They weren't clouded or distracted, but.....calm. He picked himself up as best as he could,still not totally trusting her, but he had no choice. He needed treatment for his wounds. She removed the saturated bandage from his shoulder. She dressed the wound. His stitches had busted and needed re-stitching. She did this. The pain was intense, but he endured. "So, what's someone like you, doing here, all banged up and in the traveling through these forests?" she asked while stitching the wound. No reply. "Ok." she said. "That explains everything." Once she had finished stitching his wound and dressing it, she put on a fresh new bandage. She then moved to his knee. It was worse off than he thought. He was almost immobile. A bandage wrapped around his whole knee. It too was saturated with blood and the stitches busted on it as well. She removed the bandages, re-stitched it carefully. This was more painful than the shoulder wound. He winced a little, but kept a steady face. She then wrapped it up in a fresh, new bandage. "There." she said. "That should last for a while longer." She stood up and walked away. "Wait." he said calmly, stopping her. "The reason I'm here is because.....is because, I've found out something that could cause a catostrophic war....and the deaths of hundreds, if not thousands of people...." She stopped and turned around, silent. "If I don't get outta here and notify the nation, it could be a disaster. I even have proof that this happened...." Her face seemed to saddened. "That doesn't surprise me about them." she said. She walked to a big chair and sat there. "You know?" he asked surprised. "No, not about that. It's just....many people suffer under the rule of this government. But, proof of genocide? How can you be sure?" He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a small camera. Her eyes slightly widended at the sight of the device. "I want to help you. I've grown attached to these people. They are like family. Please." "It's too dangerous." he replied without any doubt. "Especially for civilians." There was a long pause. "You'd better get some rest." she said, breaking the silence. She picked herself out of the chair and walked through the corridor adjacent to the room Matt was in. She slowly disappered into the dark hallway. Matt sighed. Exhausted, he layed back down and let the stars lull him to sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Mia slowly crept into the room. It was late afternoon, and Matt was still asleep. She sat in the chair, and watched his sleeping figure. His face was a little distorted, from a dream. She let him sleep and pulled out a book. The fire popped and crackled, making the atmosphere more relaxing. As she read the book, she thought about this mysterious soldier in her house. Where did he come from? How was he going to get out of this nation? He didn't seem to have any contact. Was he was the only survivor of his troop? Did he have any troops? She noticed on his uniform, he was captain of something. She let it all out of her mind and sank her mind into the book.  
  
~Chapter 2~  
  
Hours later. It was dusk. The Moon's pale blue light illuminated the room. The fire was the only main light in the house. Mia had just finished the book. She was feeling tired now. Her eyes could barely stay open. She lay the book on the floor and curled up into the chair. Her eyes slowly closing and the warmth of the fire lulling her to sleep. Just before getting to sleep, she heard Matt. He was fidgeting a little and he kept saying "no". It startled her a bit. Cold sweat was running down his slightly scarred face. She went by his side and tapped his arm. "Matt....Matt wake up." she said. She kept repeating these words, as if it were a magical spell that would wake him. She shook his arm a bit and spoke louder. "Matt. Wake up." He woke with a little startle. He looked up at Mia, who was at his side. "You were having a bad dream." she explained to him. He sighed with some relief. "Oh." "You ok?" she asked concerned. "Sounded like a pretty bad dream." "...No...I'm fine...." he stuttered. Just then, a gunshot was heard from outside. Mia turned around and looked in the direction the sound came from. "What the..?" she asked concerned. Matt propped himself up on his elbows. "Oh no." he whispered. Mia jumped up and jogged toward the door. She peaked out the door. About a mile's distance away, a figure surrounded in a pool of blood stained the snow. She saw a group of soldiers standing over the body. A group of people were pleading to the soldiers in Russian, only to recieve a bullet to the head. People were screaming and crying. Children's cries could be heard. Mia slammed the door and leaned against it. Her chestnut eyes were wide with shock. Matt was sitting up now. He pulled on his uniform top and zipped it up. "They're here, aren't they?" he asked calmly. Mia could only nod. Matt painfully got to his feet, and limped to Mia. "Listen," he said. "We have to get outta here, if you want to live. Do you know of any way we could escape?" he asked. Mia snapped to reality. "Um....yeah, yeah, follow me." He followed her through the long dark corridor as quickly as his wounded knee would allow. They came into an even darker room, which was illuminated by the burning houses outside of the window. She moved the rug on the floor. Below it lay a hidden door. He helped her lift it up. When opened, inside a dark staircase went down, deep into the darkness. Mia grabbed a flashlight from her bedside table. He helped her into the secret passage and then he went down it. Once inside, he pulled the hatch down and tried to lay the rug back over it as best as possible. Mia flicked on the flashlight. It illuminated the dark room. A window was to the right side wall. Barrels and bags of flour and wheat were in differnt corners of the room. "This will do." Matt said. He rushed to the window, and tried to open it. Before he could touch the window pane, the breaking down of the door could be heard. Footsteps against the wooden floor echoed into the cellar. "Damn...." Matt growled. "We have to hide." he told Mia. Mia gazed around and ran to the back of the stairs. There, a dark corner with some sacks of grain, was there. She moved the sacks and huddled into the corner. She then grabbed the sack and covered herself with it, hiding herself. Matt ran to the corner on the adjacent wall. It was dark enough, so he hid behind a sack of grain and a barrel. Mia shut off the flashlight. They waited for the danger to pass. The soldiers steps were becoming louder. They could be heard rumaging things around and the sound of glass breaking could be heard. Mia huddled herself into a tight ball. Tears streaked across her face. She was scared. Just then, the cellar was lifted. A order was given in Russian and a few soldiers descended the stairs. The soldiers carried small lanterns, to help them see. It illuminated the room, tossing shadows on the walls. The soldiers surveyed the room. Russian words were exchanged. Matt listened. Only understanding a few words. One of the soldiers approached Matt's corner. He surveyed the corner, looking suspiciously at the barrel and the bag of grain. The soldier delivered a hard kick to the bag. The weight and force of the bag slammed into Matt's wounded shoulder. The pain surged through his shoulder. The agonizing pain wanted him to shout. The pain was unbearable. Matt shut his eyes tightly. He winced. He couldn't do anthing, without giving himself away. He had to stay quiet. His shoudler burned with pain. It throbbed rapidly, keeping up with the rate of his heartbeat. The soldier searched each corner. The dark corners kept them out of danger. The Russian soldier, seeing no presence of the enemy, turned away from the corners and said something in Russian to another soldier. All of the soldiers left, except for one. Pain still ached through Matt's body. He felt immobile, unable to move. A small shuffling from Mia made the sack fall to the ground. The soldier turned toward that direction, on his guard. He cluctched his rifle and headed toward the corner under the stairwell. Matt saw his chance. He quickly and quietly jumped up after the soldier. He threw himself onto the soldier's back. With a flip over his back, he sent Matt over him. Before the soldier could call for backup, Matt kicked the rifle out of the soldier's hands and kicked him in the chin. The soldier staggered back from the impact of the blow. The soldier charged at Matt, and tackled him to the ground. Matt's groaned from the pain in his shoulder and knee. The soldier quickly got to his feet and started to make a run for the upstairs. Matt limped quickly after the soldier. Matt tripped him on the stairs. He put the soldier into a sleeper hold, and, quickly twisted his neck, breaking it with a loud crack. The body grew lifeless and limp and dropped to the cold dark floor. Matt, sweating and panting, took the body and threw it into the corner Matt was hiding in. "Mia?" Matt called. Mia shuffled and gathered herself out of the corner. She was a bit shaken. "Let's go." Matt spoke again. Mia came out from under the stairwell and walked to Matt. "Do you have anything, like a jacket, down here?" he asked. Mia nodded. On a coatrack nearby was a red ski jacket. She quickly put it on. Matt was busy prying open the window. Mia took advantage of this opportunity and picked up a backpack. She put bandages, medications, and some food and water into it. She quickly zipped it up and slung it on her back. Matt, by this time had the window up and was out of it. "C'mon, we don't have much time." Matt ordered. Mia ran to the window and Matt helped her out. They crouched low into the snow, with Matt leading. For cover, he darted to the back of the next nearby house. They waited there for a while, to avoid being caught by the soldiers. The soliders bagan to set fire to the houses. People were screaming and crying and running all about. Mia felt her heart break. She loved these people, and now they were suffering for no reason. She felt tears well up in her eyes and slowly streak down her face. She quickly wiped them away, so Matt couldn't see them. When the coast was clear, they ran for the forest. It was dark in the wood. The only thing lighting their way was the moon's light. They traveled crouching low to the snowy ground. Matt's face was serious and solid. He was like a wolf, sneaking low to the ground. Up ahead was a soldier on guard. They quickly ran into the brush and waited there. "Stay here," Matt whispered. "If something goes wrong and I don't make it, run silently, and stay low to the ground. Don't stop. Ok?" Mia nodded in response. Matt trotted off, after the soldier. His back was facing Matt. Matt crept up slowly behind him. But, Matt stepped on a twig, giving him away to the enemy. The soldier turned around rapidly and pointed the rifle at Matt. He started talking in some Russian. Matt, not understanding the language, lifted his hands in the air, acting like he was surrendering to the soldier. Matt kept them in the air. In an instant, Matt plunged at the soldier's weapon, knocking it out of the enemy's hand. It landed roughly in a thick patch of snow and luckily not going off. The soldier pulled out a hunting knife off of his belt. He charged at Matt. Matt dodged to the right, missing the razor sharp edge of the knife by mere luck. Matt lept at the soldier, in an attempt to grab the knife from the enemy. The soldier lept at Matt with the knife ready for the target. The knife cut Matt on his wrist, and the impact from the enemy sent him hard to the ground. Matt's knee and shoulder were throbbing with pain. Matt, as quickly as he could do so, got to his feet. The soldier slashed at Matt. Matt dodged and delivered a punch to his face. The soldier staggered a bit, blood oozing out of his nose and his busted lip. The enemy delivered a kick to Matt's bad knee, sending him instantly to the ground. Matt groaned in pain. The soldier lifted the knife to his opponent. The knife rushed at Matt's chest. Matt grabbed the enemy's wrist, stopping it from going into his chest. Matt struggled to keep the knife from impaling into his chest. The knife was driving closer. Matt pushed back with all his might. With what strenghth he had left, Matt got a hold of the knife, and slowly turned the point away from his chest. With that, Matt kneed him in the stomach sending him off of him. Matt picked up the knife and rushed at the opponent. The enemy rushed back at him. Matt quickly slashed the knife. The knife cut smoothly across the soldier's throat, like a hot knife through butter, slitting it open. Blood poured out of the wound. The soldier was gasping for breath. Matt walked up to the dying soldier and plunged the knife into his chest. The soldier fell to the ground, in great pain. After a minute's time, he was dead. Matt, breathing hard and sweating, looked down at his wrist. It was bleeding. His vision began to blur for a minute. He walked to the soldier and ripped off a piece of his clothing. He pressed down on the wound, to stop the flow of blood. He then tore off another fresh piece of clothing and wrapped it tightly around his arm. He looked down at the corpse of his adversary. A .9 mm lay next to him. Matt picked it up and put it in a gun holder he had. He also picked up the AK-47, which was lying nearby. He then returned to the brush. He found Mia there. He could see where tears had streaked down her face. Fear was plain to see on her face. In delight to see him, Mia embraced Matt tightly. Matt, stunned and caught off guard, didn't know what to do. "I'm so glad you're ok." she said, her voice cracking with tears. He was silent for a moment, lost in what was happening and figuring out what to do next. ".....Um...we have to keep moving. They'll find us if we don't." She quickly let go of Matt and cleared her voice. She began to turn red, embarassed of her emotional outbreak. The passed by the dead soldier. "Don't look to your right." Matt spoke. "Why?" Mia asked. ".....Just don't." Matt answered. She glanced to the right, and saw the aftermath of the battle that Matt had fought. She was horrfied to see the blood soaked corpse, but continued looking straight, following Matt closely. She turned back and looked down at the village she was temporarily living in. It was now consumed by fire, and bodies of the dead surrounded it. She cried for them, and promised that the soldiers who did this would pay.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
They kept walking through the cold, icy snow. Despite the wound in his knee, he was walking at a quick, upright pace. They had barely managed to escape from the burning village. Plus, they ran into that soldier who almost caught them. Matt had fought galantly against the soldier, and even though wounded, impaled him with the soldier's own knife. Now, that was all far away. Just a memory. She walked behind him, shivering a little from the cold. She stared at his form. He was solid and strong, like a machine. One that could not be stopped. He was holding the rifle that he had taken from the now-dead soldier close to him, like it was some precious jewl. His head would lightly turn to the left and right, watching out for the danger that would lie ahead. She glanced down and could not help but to notice his wrist. The camoflauge uniform was stained with blood there and was ripped. "Stop..." she said aloud unconsciously. "What?" he asked, a little annoyed. "You're arm." she answered lightly. He looked down at his wrist. It was slowly oozing blood. It stained the clothing and dripped down his arm, onto his right glove. He could feel the stickyness of the blood and the slight throbbing pain. He stared at it for a moment, and ignored it, acting like it was nothing. He started forward. "You're going to keep going?" she began again. "...Yeah..." he answered slowly. "But you're hurt." She grabbed him by the arm and lead him to a boulder. She shoved him onto it. "Sit here." she commanded. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked sternly. Mia was silent. She took off her backpack and pulled out bandages and medicines for a field dressing. She rolled up his blood-drenched sleeve, removed the clothing he had taken from the solider, and observed the wound. A twisted cut curved up the wrist. Blood stained the skin. It was fairly deep, but not deep enough to damage any major veins.  
He watched her diligently working on his arm. She pulled out a needle and some stitching to stitch it up. He sighed, wanting to move on. She glanced up at him, but ignored his stubborness. "Where are you from? You're accent isn't Russian or foreign..." he asked, starting conversation as he waited. She threaded "I'm from the States," she answered. "Just here on some vacation from business. I travel around the world." "How do you know so much about medicine?" he asked again. "I was planning on being a nurse until I changed majors." she answered. "Hm. Smart in school, I assume?" "Yeah," she replied. "Saludatorian." "You're parents must've been proud." he said. There was a long pause of silence. Tears welled up in Mia's eyes. She kept her face down, trying to keep her tears undetected. Matt looked down at her. A small tear dripped down from her face. "....Did I say something wrong...?" he asked nervously. She paused before answering. "No....it's nothing. Just...a rough past." she answered. ".........sorry..." he mumbled. She nodded, and kept stitching the wound. He looked into the sky. The stars were shining and diverse. Constellations could be seen, although some of them he didn't quite know. Silence filled the woods. Nothing could be heard. Everthing was quiet. Like the whole Earth was empty. He looked back down at the wound. It was 1/4 of the way stitched up. "So, what made you want to be in the military?" she asked, breaking the dead silence. "....I dunno. Just wanted to I guess." he replied. "I noticed you have a rank. Captain?" she asked. "Uh, yeah." he answered. "Took a lot of work to get there." More silence. She could tell there was more to him than what he said. Something about his eyes and notions made her think this. He seemed...complex, or complicated maybe. She knew, somehow, that he was trustworthy. Matt wondered what she thought of him. He didn't want to let her in, let her know his secrets he wouldn't tell anyone. He knew she was probably catching onto him. It didn't matter. He figured she was trustworthy, and she certainly wasn't hostile. From what he had seen anyways. His trust in her had heightened since he had first met her. Trust was something hard to earn from him, but she was gradually gaining it. She had finished stitching the wound and applying medications and was beginning to put on the badanges. She carefully wrapped them tightly. He watched her finish up the dressing. "Finshed." she spoke at last. He looked at it and tested it out. It held tight. "Not bad." he said. It was dark. The forest was thick and it was a suitable place to rest. "We can rest here for the night." he said. She nodded. She walked to a tree and leaned her back against it. She was tired, and a long day awaited ahead. She stuffed her hands into her jacket pockets and curled up. Matt sat up against the boudler. She was looking to the left and right every now and then, watching out for any danger. Matt sighed. "Get some sleep," he said. "I'll stay up and watch." "You sure?" she asked. He nodded firmly. She didn't question him and closed her eyes. Before long she was off to sleep. Matt looked down at the snow and at the rifle next to him. He picked it up, and laid it across his lap. He watched her sleep. She was at peace, and she looked exhausted. Snow started to dance across the black skies. It was going to be cold. Even though risky, he gathered some wood and started a fire. It would keep them warm for the night.  
  
~Chapter 3~  
  
Dawn had just awakened. The crows and ravens started their morning calls. The sun's light reflected on the cold, white snow. It covered the trees with its snowy blankets and ice. Matt opened his eyes. The caw of the ravens shrilled through his ears. He quickly looked around. He looked toward Mia, to find that she was asleep. He looked down at his gun, which still lay in his lap. ~How'd I fall asleep?~ he asked himself. He looked down at the remains of the fire. Some smoke arose from it and the wood was charred and burned to ashes. Silent cracks , from fire burning some remaining wood could be barely heard. A sudden gunshot and muffled screams broke his train of thought. "Damn...." he said to himself. He picked up his AK and slung it over his shoulder. He walked over to Mia and tapped at her shoulder. "Mia. Mia, wake up." he said firmly and loud enough to wake her up. She groaned. "Wha..?" she asked, fatigued. "C'mon. We have to get out of here now. They're coming." Finally coming back to reality, Mia lost no time, picked up her backpack, slung it on her back, and followed Matt. "Stay low, and follow me." he whispered, his eyes darting from one direction to the other. She nodded her response and followed. His crouch evolved into a jog, and the jog into a sprint. She kept following, although his speed and agility far surpassed her. They reached the edge of clearing and his behind a brush. Mia was huffing and puffing, but not too bad. But she was thankful for the stop. Matt pulled out a pair of binoculars out of one of his pockets. He scanned the meadow with the binoculars. On the other side, the forest was dark, and suspicious. He scanned the tops of the trees. He spotted a sniper, dressed in camo and had a wide view of the area. They would easily be killed if they went out there. "We can't go across." he whispered. "Why?" Mia asked silently. "There's a sniper in that tree." he pointed out. Just then, behind them, a small rustling could be heard. The crunching of boots could be heard. Matt quickly turned around, and about a 25 yard distance away were a group of enemy soldiers advancing toward them. "Damn it." Matt said. Mia was worried about that response. "What should we do?" she asked, trying not to show fear in her voice. Matt looked around. Over to the right was a thick brush. "This way." he said, pointing to the brush. He crouched low to the snow, Mia following. The green brush would have to do. He looked behind him to see their tracks. Thinking quickly. He tore off a branch from a nearby pine tree, and quickly swept away the footprints. After he had finished he discarded the branch. "Get in." he said, letting her into the brush first. She quickly crawled and entered it. Matt followed. "Stay down," Matt said. "Don't move a muscle." Mia obeyed, feeling the fear well up inside her. The crunching of boots became louder and louder. About a few feet away, four black boots could be seen. They soon multiplied, signaling that the troops were just a few feet in front of their brush. Two soldiers began to converse in Russian. Matt understood some of the conversation. "Did you find them?" the first soldier asked. "No, they weren't in the last village." another soldier replied. Silence. The first soldier was speaking into a radio. "Have you found anything?" asked the first soldier. A garbled transmission was replied back. "They shouldn't be too far then." the first soldier replied to the garbled transmission. The transmission came again. "I don't care how or who you kill, just find them!" the first soldier commanded. The transmission ended. Silence. The first soldier started to converse with the second one. "Take your men and scout the east side of the territory."he ordered. "Find them now." Mia felt she was going to sneeze. She lifted her hand to her nose, to permit this from happening. She broke a twig while doing this. The soldiers turned around. Matt looked over at her. She was holding her nose, and staring back at Matt with a scared expression. "What was that?" one of the soldiers asked firmly, holding his AK. The first soldier motioned to a group of soldiers to take a look. They slowly approached the brush, holding their AK's close and ready. Matt looked one of the soldiers straight in the eye, but the enemy didn't notice. Matt braced himself for the worst. The enemy soldiers pointed the barreks if their rifles into the bushes, feeling around for any unknown presence. The barrels shifted and moved close. Mia had to shimmy over lightly to avoid the touch of them. Matt came close to getting hit, but rolled over slightly. One of the barrels was at Matt's head. Matt stayed still, not knowing what to do next. "Enough." the first soldier commanded. The soldier's obeyed, lifting their gun barrels out of the brush. Matt felt relief flow through him, now that the gun barrel was away from his head. "Must have been a bird..." the first soldier scowled. "Now, get a move on and find them. If you don't, it will be your heads." The soldiers obeyed, and traveled east, away from the group. The crunching of their feet in the snow, slowly faded into the distance. The first soldier looked at his troops. "Move out!" he commanded. The troops followed their leader, and advanced north. The crunching of their feet in the snow, slowly disappated into the woods. Matt sighed with relief. Making sure the coast was clear, he peaked out of the brush, and slowly crawled out. Mia followed, after he motioned that it was safe. She felt ashamed that she had almost given them up to the enemy. She wouldn't and couldn't look him in the eye. "Let's go." he said. She followed, and they traveled west away from the troops.  
  
~Chapter 4~  
It was, by now, late in the afternoon. Matt was traveling quickly and swifly. He hadn't stopped or rested all day. Mia was exhausted. She could barely keep up. She would lag behind, and he would have to slow up. She knew he didn't like slowing up, and she tried her best to hurry along. She finally couldn't take it any longer. He looked back at her, and could tell. He sighed. "Let's take a break." he said, a little annoyed. Thankful for the rest, Mia sat down. She was thirsty. She hadn't had anything to drink for practically a day. She didn't know how long Matt had been deprived of water, but she knew it must've been a long time. She pulled out two water bottles from her backpack. She handed one to Matt. Both began to drink the water vigorously.After they had finished, they went to a nearby stream and filled the refilled the bottles with more water. The day was coming to a close. The pink and purple sky mixed together in the sunset. It was going to be colder tomorrow. He could feel it. "Let's stop here for the night." he said, knowing that Mia was ready to stop. Mia sat down, glad for the rest. Matt did also, a few feet opposite of Mia. He put the gun in his lap, and watched. They were on the outskirts of a forest, near a stream. The forest was dark, which was somewhat of a good thing. The sun began to set behind the evergreen wood, darkening the forests. Mia stared at Matt, who seemed hard as a rock. "You've been in plenty of battles, haven't you?" she asked, striking a conversation. Matt, who was looking at the rifle, stared up at her. "Yeah. You could say that." he answered. There was silence. A soft, cold breeze could be heard, mingling, whispering, though the wood. Snow drifted down from the skies, flurrying amongst the trees. The moon was out. Gold and bright. A dim light spread across the land. Millions of stars speckled the sky. Temperatures were dropping rapidly. Mia looked into the night sky. Matt watched her. She seemed to understand him, more than anyone else he knew. It was like she could read his every thought, like reading a book. Even if he didn't want to admit it, she was his weakness. She looked over at Matt. His visage was hard, and troubled. He was looking down at his weapon, almost like it was hypnotizing him. Putting him into a trance. She could tell he was troubled. "Matt?" she asked. "Something wrong?" Matt glanced up at her, keeping his head down. She could tell what he was thinking. ~Damn. How does she do that, anyway?~ he asked himself. He lifted his head and looked her in the eye. "..No. Nothing's wrong..." he replied, trying to find the words to say. She knew better than to belive him, but she figured he didn't want to talk about what he was thinking. She let him be. She went back to gazing at the stars and he went back to staring at the gun. "How are you the only soldier left?" she asked. "Are you the only one here?" Matt didn't lift his head. By his expression, she could tell she had hit a nerve. ~Oh no, did I say the wrong thing?~ she asked herself. Matt slowly lifted his head to the moonlit sky. "No..." he replied. "I was here...commanding some troops. But, they're all gone..." Mia was silent. Somehow, she could always find the root of what was bothering someone. No matter how bad it was. "--It was cold, like now....my troops were dying. The enemy was strong. So strong. They were dying, left and right. Enemies would fall, as well as the good. Blood and gore stained and scattered acoss the snow. Bullets flying right and left. Some hitting their targets. Screams of agony and pain still ring through my ears. I can remember.....watching my friends fall beside me....watching them die and being completely helpless as to what to do. One minute, you're talking to a fellow soldier. The next, there's a bullet through his head.You would walk by a friend with his legs blown off. Then you'd see an enemy, with his guts spilled out across him. You think to yourself, I must be next, as you watch everyone fall over and all of the dead. But, you're not. It's like you have to go on, for everyone else that died. So they didn't die in vain.....I've lost many troops, and friends in the past...and I've wanted to die, to get out of here, but I remember them, and keep going for them. But, its all a part of a soldier's job. Gaining and losing is a part of it. Losing friends and troops becomes and everyday thing for you. We're the killers....sent to do the dirty work. A soldier's life isn't easy. Everyday is a challenge for survival. Pain, bullets flying through the air, the stench of death, the blood, the screams, they're all the music of war. Sometimes....the scenes of battle come back and haunt you in your dreams. Every night. Sometimes the dreams aren't so bad. Some are worse than other. The same visions every night. It's all a part of being a soldier, though....." He looked back to Mia. Her face was solemn. Her tears could be seen faintly from the moon's light. "....I'm sorry...I shouldn't have told you that..." he said. "...No..I'm glad you did..." she said. There was a period of silence. Matt slowly arose to his feet and walked off a little ways and looked off into a meadow, adjacent to them. He pulled out his .9mm, and inspected it. He checked the ammo in it and put it back into its holder, on his left thigh. He started into the meadow, and watched the snow drift into it. A cold, light breeze made the trees shiver. Some snow flurries streaked past his serious face. Mia arose to her feet, and walked to him and stood by his side. She reached for his right hand, and held it. He looked down at her, a bit uneasy and not understanding what to do next. Her eyes met his. Their eyes locked, and stuck in the trance of each other's stares. Matt's face moved closer to hers. Their lips met. Mia closed her eyes, accepting the kiss. He kissed her softly, not caring anymore what his mind told him. His heart was controlling him, tormenting him. Slowly, their lips departed. Mia slowly opened her eyes. Matt blushed a little, and cleared his throat, not quite sure and embarrased of his actions. There was silence. Matt finally soke after the long pause. "You'd better get some sleep." "Yeah." Mia responded. She walked over sat down leaning her back against a tree, and dug her hands into her pockets to keep warm. Shivering slightly, she slowly closed her eyes, and concentrated on sleep. A fire wouldn't be made tonight. It was too risky. It could give them away. Matt watched her and thought to himself. He didn't want to lose her. He had lost a lot already, but he couldn't bear to have to go on, without her. She was shivering a little more, but her eyes remained closed. She was half asleep. He could tell by her look. Plus, he figured that she probably couldn't sleep in the cold. Her clothing wasn't made like his. It was thick and suitable for cold, icy weather. It was dark camoflaged and blended into the envirornment. Like a chamelon. It was built firm, and in case of any blood loss, could sustain the body from heavy bleeding. It had many pockets and straps, for holding whatever essentials were needed. On the right shoulder was a patch of the United States flag. Below it was the symbol of the U.S Navy Seals. He thought about the numbers of people who had died for both that symbol and flag. Visions of war would blur through his head, but it didn't bother him. Not any more. He was used to death, pain, and suffering.  
  
He glanced over at Mia again, who, this time, was shivering a little worse than before. The pale moonlight shone on her slightly, the only thing making her stand out in the wood. He sighed. As he did, his breath became visible and floated into the air, and then finally diminshing without a trace. It was cold. He knew it. He picked up the rifle off of the snow and walked toward Mia. He slowly, and quietly sunk down beside her, and put the gun down to his right, placing it closely to himself. He put his left arm around her and drew her close. It would keep both of them warm for the night. She stirred a bit, and laid her head softly on his shoulder. The stars sparkled, and shooting stars sailed through the deep night sky. He could count at least ten flying past. The milkyway was lightly visble because of its faded appearance. He looked down at her and noticed that her shivering had slightly diminished. He made a promise to himself, that night, that he would do all he could to protect her and to get her out of this war.  
  
~Chapter 5~  
  
It was morning, but still the night sky remained. Matt opened his eyes, and realized her had fallen asleep. It was the third time tonight...or this morning it had happened. Mia was still asleep. The sky was growing lighter, but the journey could wait a little longer. Snow flurries softly glided across the sky and drifted down to the white earth. Mia stirred a bit. He glanced down at her sleeping face to see it etched with a troubled expression. She was shaking a little more, and her face transformed from troubled to terrified. He shook Mia, and called her name. "Mia. Wake up." He shook her a little harder. "Mia...Wake up." She woke up, her eyes wide and filled with tears. Matt looked into her eyes and could easily see the terror that wrought in them. "A dream?" he asked. Mia nodded. The only response she could make. He put his head on top of hers, as a type of embrace to make her feel better. Mia was surprised by the action, but she didn't push him away. She was comforted by it. It made her feel better. Tears streaked down her face and onto his shoulder, though Matt didn't notice. "...I-Its that dream...I get it s-sometimes..." she stuttered. Matt listened, but didn't say anything. If she needed to get something out, she would do it, and he didn't want to force or ask her if it was too painful. "You ok?" he asked with an emotionless tone, hiding his concern. She nodded. "The dream always starts from when I was a little girl..." she began. "My mother was shot....and I can remember, running, like she had commanded.... A tall, strong, man came through the door of our house that night. He was holding a gun. She told me to run to the kitchen and get out though the door there. I obeyed...and I ran....-" Tears came into her eyes again. "You don't have to tell me this...."Matt stated softly. "....I ran to a house of some middle-aged people about a mile away. They called the police.....and when they went to my house....it was too late-" Silence. "Years later, my mother's murderer was found. He was sentenced to death by the electric chair. I remember watching.....hating....and glad my mother finally recieved justice and that he would get his punishment...." She sobbed, and couldn't hold it back. Matt drew her close as she cried on his shoulder. After a while, she had cried herself to sleep. Matt watched over her as she slept, and held her close, wishing she had never told him what she had said.  
  
~Chapter 6~  
  
Morning had arrived. Matt stayed up, on the lookout. Mia slowly awoke. Dark clouds hovered in the sky. Mia looked up at Matt. His eyes were deep with concentration and fixed toward the horizon. She didn't realize he had been sitting beside her until now. She blushed a bit, but she liked to be near him. It made her feel comfort and protection. She didn't remember anything from last night. She didn't remember waking in the night, or explaining her dream to him. Matt hoped she didn't remember. He knew he had heard one of those things which he shouldn't have known. He discarded it out of his mind. "Let's go." he said, his eyes never leaving the horizon. He slowly picked himself up and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Mia picked herself up and slung her backpack over her shoulder. "They'll probably be arriving from the north quickly." A gunshot blared lightly toward the north. Mia looked over her shoulder. The gunshot mader her jump. Matt advanced south, with Mia following. He crouched down low, avoiding others, if they were near. They weaved though the forest and into its depths. Crows and ravens flew through the forests, chanting their calls. Hawks dove in after their prey. A cold wind sailed through the trees. A cold wind echoed its prophecies. It was quiet. So quiet, the beating of their hearts could be heard. Matt paused for a moment and surveyed the area. It was quiet. Too quiet....From behind them, a clicking noise was heard. Matt quickly turned around. Behind him, was an enemy soldier, of about 6'3 in height, and heavier and muscular than the other soldiers. He was pointing the barrel of his AK at him. Matt knew he was no match for a soldier with an AK pointed at him. The enemy began to speak Russian. "Hands up!" he cried. Matt obeyed the command and slowly raised his arms into the air. Mia was frightened, but she did the same. The soldier began to speak rapidly, and Matt couldn't understand. The soldier barked out phrases, and Matt had no clue of what to say. The angry soldier aimed, ready to fire the shot at his enemy. Mia quickly jumped and pushed Matt as hard as she could to the hard, cold, snowy ground. Matt quickly rolled over and pulled the .9mm out of its holder and shot the weapon. His aim was true. A red hole opened in the center of the enemy's forehead. The soldier's visage was expressionless. Blood slowly trickled out of the wound and down the center of his nose. His gun dropped to the ground, luckily not firing off. He dropped to his knees, eyes wide, and fell to the earth, lifeless as the snow he lay on. Matt looked down at his dead advesary, and sighed. He put the gun back into its place. He turned toward Mia, whose back was turned to him. "You ok?" he asked. She slowly turned around. Her face was as pale as the snow that glided around her. She was holding her shoulder. She removed her hand from it and surveyed the blood on her hand. Her shoulder was slowly oozing blood. Her eyes appeared weak. "....Matt..." she answered weakly. Her knees buckled. She fell. Matt raced to her and quickly caught her before she could hit the cold, icy snow. "Mia!" he cried, concern and worry in his voice. He went to his knees, and held her in his arms. He looked at the wound, and noticed where she had been shot. "...I'm...glad your...ok..." she replied faintly. "Don't talk." he said, worried about her. He hated himself. How could he had let this happen? He held her close and applied pressure to the wound. He tore off a piece of his sleeve and used it to cover the wound. He had to get her out. He picked her up in his arms, and rapidly raced through the forest. She was quickly losing consciousness. He ran, faster and faster. Hoping and praying he would find some sort of shelter. He kept running, and ran into a small group of soldiers about a mile's distance away. Russian commands were fired off, and the soldiers raced after him. Matt paused and quickly ran in the opposite direction. He ran, trying to figure out a hiding place. He raced into the deep, dark depths of the forest, hoping to escape the enemy soldiers. In the distance, the sound of the enemy could be heard. He stopped for a minute, breathing hard. It was all quiet, nothing to be heard. And nowhere to hide. The only thing around were a bunch of trees. He had an idea. He hoped it would work. He quickly ran to one of the trees, but noticed his tracks. He scurried to cover them up, and then began to climb it. He carried himself and Mia as far as he could to the top of the tree. Once stationed to a high branch, he awaited the enemy that would come.  
Just as he thought, the enemy arrived. He could tell, because of the marching in the snow. The one, who appeared to be the leader, stopped. His head glanced from the left to the right. He was strong and built firm of about 30. His eyes were dark, and could stab a person, if you looked straight into them. His face was hard, and cold, and contained many stories from the scars on his face. His hair was dark as his eyes. Some snow was lightly gathered on his broad shoulders. He weilded a gun, such as the AK's. A long, silver daggar hung about the belt of his waist. His expression was cold, and hard. He was experienced. He had been through wars, won and lost, and his victims were most likely innumberable. "He was just here...." the leader siged. "Split up." The troops obeyed their leader, searching in all directions. Their rifles were armed and ready, and one slight movement could mean death. Matt was silent, while watching from his perch. He slowly covered Mia's mouth, so if she were to make any noise unconsciouslly. The leader picked up a signal from his radio. "What?" he asked soldily. "Sir, we lost him." "Damn, keep looking. He's bound to be around somewhere..." "Commander Konstantin, what if we don't find him?" the voice asked. "It will be your head..." Konstantin barked. The transmission ended. Konstantin raised a hand in the air. "Move out!" he ordered. The soldiers quickly lined up, and marched on. Before leaving, Konstatin looked over his shoulder, suspiscious, and knowing that the renegade soldier was near.  
  
~Chapter 7~  
  
Matt stayed where he was for about ten minutes. After a sigh of relief, he slowly descended down the tree. Things were starting to look bad. Mia was going in and out of consciousness. There was no doubt that Matt blamed himself for what happened. He would look into her face and feel his guilt. He traveled through the cold, silent forest, in search for shelter. His hope was diminishing. The days was coming to an end. He was about to give up, when he saw a large communications tower sticking up out of the treetops. Matt, his hopes regained, ran to the tower. He took refuge in the trees and bushes, just in case it belonged to the enemy. He crept to the edge of the wood, and surveyed the tower and the wooden building it rest on. Outside, was an old jeep, old a dirty, with mud slushed snow above the tires. There was quiet, no one appeared to be around. Matt waited where he was, just in case an enemy were to come out. When no one came out, he put Mia down in a brush and slowly advanced toward the door. He opened it and quickly went inside, his rifle ready. He searched every room, and nothing or nobody was in the dim building. Matt hurried back outside, picked Mia up, and quickly brought her in. He set her down in front of the fireplace. He made a fire, to warm up the room, and her. While searching for enemies, he had noticed, in an upstairs room, on a table, was a communications device. He could use it to contact someone to help him get out. He quickly ascended the staircase, which seemed to take forever to get up. He ran into the room, and even though risky, turned it one, and spoke into a microphone. "Hello, can anyone hear me, over." No reply. Matt tried again. Still no reply. "This is Navy Seal 2510, do you copy, over." There was silence. Matt slammed his fist on the hard, wood table. "Damn!" he cried. A staticy transmission replied. "We hear ya, 2510. This is the "Santa Maria" What's your status, over?" Matt was shocked and glad to hear the voice. He knew that name, it was an aircraft carrier stationed in the Barents Sea. "I'm in Russia, don't know where exactly, northern Siberia is all I know. I have evidence of bad stuff over here, and I can't get out. I have enemy's all over my tail, over." "Do you have some sort of tracking device on you, over?" Matt paused and looked at his field gear. He remembered being injected, before the mission, with some sort of tracking device. It was in his blood stream. "Yes, it's on, over." Matt answered. "We'll find ya, over." "Permission to ask whom I am speaking to, over." Matt said. "Commander McCloud, over." "Sir, Captain Matt Reese speaking, over." "Send a transmission, at 0100 hours sharp, over." "Copy that," Matt said. "Over and out." The conversation ended. Silence filled the room. Matt sighed, a little from relief and frustration. The only sound to be heard was the tranquil breeze of the cold darkness outside. Matt made his way to the staircase and slowly descended them. He remembered Mia. He quickened his pace down the stairs and went to her. She was still, and silent by the fireplace. He quietly knelt down beside her. Her face was distorted a little from pain. He took off her red ski jacket, and surveyed the wound. No exit wounds were present, so the bullit was still in her shoulder. He glanced down at Mia's backpack, and rumaged through it. He found a small box, with a first-aid kit. He took it out and searched through it. He didn't have as much knowledge about tending to wounds as Mia did, but he knew enough to survive. He unwrapped the piece of clothing he had used as a make-shift bandage. The wound was deep. He looked through the box and found a pair of tweasers. He didn't want to, but he had to get the bullit out. He slowly picked up the tweaser and applyed them to the wound. He was as careful with the tools as he could possibly be. It would hurt. Like hell. He knew it. He searched in deep into the wound. He quickly glanced up at Mia, who was wincing with the pain. He darted his eyes back down to the wound, and he could see he was nearing it. Blood saturated the once silver tweasers. Mia was awake. She was moaning from the great pain. Matt hated to do it, but it was for her own good. He kept searching, until he came upon it. He opened the tweasers enough to grasp the bullit. Once he had the tweasers wrapped around it, he began the extraction of it from her shoulder. He knew this part would hurt the worst. He was right, she began to cry out from the pain. "Hang in there..." he said, despite her crys. The process was slow, but it was coming out. He gradually saw it appear. The bullit was out. The crys slowly transformed into moans of pain. It appeared to look like a bullit, but covered in her red blood. He placed it down on the wood floor beside him, and rumaged through the kit again. He found something to dress the wound and stitches to close it up. He applied a dressing to it, and began to stitch it up. He slowly began to stitch it, and would notice the wincing on her face. After stitching it up, he pulled out the bandages and began wrapping them tightly about the shoulder. Pain was clear to see on her face. He hated it. He blamed himself for it. She had jumped in front of the bullit for his sake. So he could live. It worked, but she was hurt in the process. He knew he shouldn't have taken her along with him, but what would've happened to her if he didn't? Maybe much worse than what she was experiencing. After bandaging the wound, he pulled the red coat over her body, to keep warm. He, then, pulled out a water bottle from her backpack, and held the bottle for her, so she could drink. The water was cold, and quenched her thirst. It would help her. After she had finished, he sighed. "...I'm sorry..." he said shamefully. Mia glanced up at him and smiled warmly. It was the only answer that he needed out of her. She was tired and needed some rest. It was obvious. He arose from his place beside her and walked to a nearby window. Icicles hung from the edge of the roof. The windows were slighty frosted from the bitter cold. The snow flurried around it, falling against the window sill. The stars danced across the sky, and the moonlight from the half moon covered the forest. No sign of an enemy was near. "...D-don't leave..." she said painfully. Matt glanced over his shoulder at Mia. She was laying there, helpless. Her crys resembled a puppy's whimper to its parent. He walked over to her and sat down beside her. She looked into his eyes, and could see his sadness. She reached her hand out and put it on his. He held her hand tight. "...I promise...," he said. "I won't let anything happen to you..."  
  
~Chapter 8~  
  
Mia was asleep. It was early morning. The next contact would be soon. Matt stayed awake, keeping watch over Mia. The warmth of the fire was soothing, and comfortable. Silence filled the room, except for the cracking of the fire against the wood. He held his head in his hands and combed his fingers through his dark, brown hair. Matt realized that the time of the next contact was very soon.  
He arose from where he was sitting, and climbed the stairs, to the room with the communications equipment. The radio was silent, waiting for hin to make contact. He flipped on a switch, turning it on. It was an older model, unlike the advancements of today. He hit a button and began to speak into the reciever. "Santa Maria, do you copy. This is Matt Reese, over." Silence. No reply. He tried again. This time, a staticy transmission replied. "We hear you. What's the situation, over." "Everything's alright, at the moment, over. What's the plan?" "We're coming for you. We're sending helicopters, and some F-18s, to help assist you, over." "You know where to find me, sir?" Matt asked. "Affirmative, we have a signal from your tracking device, over." "I'll be watching for you." "Affirmative. Over and out." "Over and out." He peered out the window, and noticed the sky was growing brighter. Matt rushed down the stairs and to Mia. He called her name, and tapped her lightly. "Mia? Mia?" She stirred and slowly lifted her heavy eyelids. "We have to go. We're getting out of here." She smiled lightly, but could tell she was in great pain from the wound. She needed rest, but they needed to keep moving. Her eyes were clouded with pain, and she slowly lost consciousness. "Damn!" Matt cursed. He picked her up and carried her. He looked down at his AK, and slung it over his shoulder, and made his way toward the door. He glanced out the window, and could detect traces of the enemy.A small group of them. Some of them were headed this way, only a mile's distance away. They were quickly advancing. "Great." he scowled. He sprinted to the door and quickly ran out of it. To the right side of the house was an old jeep. It was camoflauge colored, old, and beaten. It would be a means of an easy, but risky escape. He sprinted to the jeep, and prayed the door wasn't locked. It was hard to open, but the door gave way. He put Mia in on the passenger side. He rambled through the car, trying to find the keys to start it. He frantically looked to the ignition. Nothing. He looked in the glove compartment. Nothing. He tried the visors. They keys slid out of the visor above the driver's side. He quickly shoved the key into the ignition, and turned it to start. The car whined, and didn't start. Again he tried, only to recive the same result. He held the clutch in, but still nothing happened. He tried one more time, and the V-8 of the vehicle, roared to life. He buckled Mia into her seat, just in case. He pushed the clutch in, and put it in first. The Jeep roared, and darted off through the snow. The enemy noticed the vehicle. All enemy soldier's lifted their AK's and fired. Konstantine watched with anger plain to see on his face. The vehicle streamed snow out from behind it. Matt pushed in the clutch and moved to second. Clutch. Third. The engine raored with life. Bullets sank into the vehicle, leaving visble bullit holes. Clutch. Fourth. Clutch. Fifth. "Fire. Get them!" Konstatine ordered. One bullit found a target, and sank into the right front tire. The wheel slid on a soft patch of snow, causing the car to go out of control. Matt swerved the Jeep, but couldn't save it. The vehicle slipped and flew upside down. The car tumbled with a loud crash. Glass shattered everywhere, and the vehicle tossed onto it's roof. Once the vehicle was down, and dead, Matt opened his eyes, and found himself laying on the roof of the car. He groaned with pain. His forehead ached with pain and his a sharp pain was in his ankle. He looked over at Mia, who was hanging upside down, like a bat in a cave, thanks to the seat belt. She was still unconscious, but ok. He slowly crawled over to her, and released the belt buckle. He carefully set her down and dragged her out of the wrecked mass. He picked her up and stumbled away from the vehicle, though pain told him to stop. Bullets were flying at the vehicle, close to the gas tank. He knew what they were going to do. He limped faster from the car. He noticed a fallen log neaby, and decided to hide behind it. Before he could reach it, a bullit found the gas tank, and the Jeep went up in flames. Matt hit the ground, covering Mia from the blast. Parts of the Jeep flew around them, but luckily not hitting them. He picked Mia up and fled for the fallen log. He quickly ducked down behind it and set Mia down beside him. He picked up his AK, and readied it. He felt the pain in his forehead. He lifted his hand to it and felt the warm blood that oozed from it. He looked at his fingertips, which were covered in the blood from the gash. Ignoring it, he placed the barrel of his rifle over the log and began to shoot. One by one, the soldiers would fall to the ground, dead or wounded badly. "Bastards!" he cried in anger. Konstatine's soldier's were falling. He radioed for some backup. He admired this soldier's valor and skill, but he wouldn't let him live. He commanded his troops to kill him, no matter what. The soldier's were dropping more and more. Bullets flew past Matt. Some coming to close for comfort. Matt picked off the enemy slowly. Mia was regaining consciousness. She looked up and saw Matt angrily firing the AK. She was afraid. She had awoken to something totally unexpected. They're were three soldiers left. Matt had picked off ten. He shot at them, bringing one down, dead. The next one, recived a shot in the chest. The blood flowed out quickly and he slowly suffered his painful death. One soldier left. Five bullit left. He had to aim right. The soldier fired. The bullets flew into the wood, and barely past Matt's head. Matt aimed, and fired. The bullit flew, hitting the enemy square in the head. The soldier fell to the ground, instantly dead. Konstatine gritted his teeth in fury. He pulled out his .9mm and began to fire it from behind a tree. Matt replied, but firing what was left from the AK. After he used the four remaning bullit, he was out. He discarded the rifle, and pulled out his .9mm. He only had three bullets. He fired at the commander. All three bullets missing. Konstatine fired back, but he too was out of ammo. Konstatine, realizing the enemy had no bullets, began to approach his enemy, and fight him one on one. Matt, tired of running slowly raised himself from the snow, and walked to his prolonged enemy. He had waited for this day. When he would fight his enemy. Each walked slowly to each other. Kontantine pulled out his long, sharp knife, ready to kill. Matt was unarmed and had to act and rely on his senses. Konstatine approached Matt, and sprinted toward him, knife ready. Konstantine lept at his advesary, rapidly. Matt quickly dodged to the right, barely missing the razor sharp blade. Konstatine jabbed the knife at his enemy, but missed. Matt delivered a blow to his face, causing both his nose and lips to bleed. He snarled and sliced again. Matt dodged to the left, but not quick enough. The blade sliced his top left arm. He let out an agonzining cry, as the blood streamed down the wound. Konstatine kicked Matt to the cold snow, Matt wincing in pain. Konstantine lifted the knife to stab Matt. Matt rolled out of the way, and delivered a blow to Konstantine's ribs. He heard a faint crack, signifying he had cracked his ribs. Mia watched from the log, scared for Matt. She prayed and hoped for Matt's safety. Tears were in her eyes as she watched the pursuing battle. Matt recived a punch to the face, causing his lip to bleed. He stumbled back from the blow, and quickly recovered. The knife flew at him again, but fortuantely missed. Konstatine tried for another swipe, but failed. Matt dropped to the snow, and tripped his foe up. Konstatine fell to the cold, hard snow, but sliced at Matt's bad knee. The swipe was on target, causing Matt to cry out in pain. Blood poured out the wound, causing Matt to fall to the ground. He was wincing and moaning with pain. Konstatine lunged at Matt and aimed for his heart. Matt quickly reacted and caught his wrist, stopping the knife only inches from his chest. The knife had come too close to his face and left a cut from his ear to his chin. He struggled with Konstatine, trying to point the knife in a differnt direction. Konstatine's was slowly gaining an advantage. Matt struggled, and slowly turned Konstatine's wrist, so that the knife was pointing outward. Matt kneed him in the stomach, sending him flying off of him. Matt quickly and painfully arose to his feet. He wiped away the blood from his mouth, and awaited Konstatine's next move. He had to get the knife. He could win, if the knife was in his possesion. Konstantine lunged at Matt again. Expecting the move, Matt dodged again, and tackled Konstantine to the ground. He grabbed the wrist which owned the knife, and began to twist it. Konstatine cryed from the pain. Matt twisted it hard, causing the bone to break. A loud crack sounded. Konstatine yelped with the pain. Matt quickly took the knife. Konstantine slowly arose to his feet, his wrist limp and gnarled. Matt readied the knife. Konstatine tried one last attempt for Matt. Matt dodged to the right and let the knife slice across his neck. Konstatine choked. Blood poured out of the wound and spurted out. He clucthed his neck with his one good hand, which was instantly turned red from the blood. Matt panted. "Die bastard!" he screamed in Russian. Matt raised the knife and plunged it through Konstatine's neck. It went in easily and deep. The point of the knife stuck out from the back of his neck. Konstatine's face turned blood red. He choked and fell to his knees, gasping for needless air. Konstatine fell to his side, still suffering from the immense pain of his slow death. Matt breathed hard, and watched his for breath his last breath. Matt looked down at the blood covered snow. He wiped some blood away from his mouth, and sighed. His knee was in great pain. His arm was a bloody mess now, and it too throbbed from the pain. Matt staggered and limped to the now conscious Mia. His visage and staggering voiced his pain. His face appeared exhausted. A long cut ran down the left side of his face. A gash on his forehead was still oozing some blood. A bruise began to form over his right eye, which was starting to swell. He limped from the pain in his knee, and his left arm was limp from the wound there. Sweat dripped down his face as well as some drops of blood. Mia painfully picked herself up and walked to him. She embraced him tightly, thankful for his safety. Matt was glad to feel her embrace, but the tight embrace hurt his wounds. He winced a bit, and returned the embrace. "You ok?" Matt asked weakly. Mia looked up at Matt and smiled. "I should be the one asking you that." Matt could tell by her face that she was in bad shape still. Her face was as pale as the snow, and her eyes appeared weak. But, she was strong. Her will and determination drove her. She pulled his right wrist around her neck, helping him to walk. He was reluctant to accept the offer, but he did. He didn't want Mia to hurt herself because of him. "Don't worry. I can manage." Matt stated. Mia ignored him. She was becoming weaker. Her breathing was heavy. She looked like she was going to pass out. She was staggering. He stopped, and put her left arm around his neck to help support her. "You're still weak." he said. She didn't reply. Words were consumed to much energy. Matt was reaching the end of the meadow. It was quiet. Too quiet. The ravens in the sky cackled an eerie prophecy, that only they knew. Matt stopped abruptly. The sound of vehicles, and foreign language filled the meadow. Matt turned around, and watched as the enemy appeared out of the darkness of the forest, into the meadow, in jeeps and many on foot. Konstatine's order had been fulfilled. There were too many. He would be knocking on Death's door if he were to stay and fight. Matt limped faster, fleeing from the enemy. Bullets began to fly, and orders were echoed about. Matt thought. The enemy was advancing. There was no escape. Not this time. They were finished, at the end of the rope. Just then, a slight roaring was sounded through the sky. Matt recognized this sound. He had heard it many times before. It was a sound freedom, as well as a powerful asset in war. Matt paused and stared into the sky. An S-70A Black Hawk appeared over the top of the trees, blasting its wind against the pine trees. Matt smirked. They had found him. Two F-18's flew over, past the helicopter, firing their deadly bullets. Crys of pain and snow flew into the air. The Black Hawks fired their ammunition at the enemy, helping to hold back Matt's pursuers. The helicopter descended to the snow, making it fly and swirl in differnt directions. Eight soldiers piled out of the helicopter, running to Matt and Mia. Two of them escorted Mia to the helicopter, while the six remained, firing their rifles and holding back the enemy. The enemy called for more backup, and tanks were arrived to their aid. More firepower was being used. The fighter jets u-turned and began to pack more firepower onto the enemy. The Black Hawk was in danger, so the helicopter began to ascend from the ground. All US soldiers ran to the helicopter, and scurried into the aircraft. Matt was escorted by one soldier that remained with him. The soldiers threw out a rope latter to climb. Matt ascended the ladder first, followed by the other soldier. Bullets were flying. They were high into the sky now. If they fell, it would result in death. Matt continued up the latter, despite the danger around him. The soldier behind him followed. They were almost there, when a bullit hit the second soldier's arm. He cried out in agony, and lost his grip on the rope. Matt reacted quickly, and caught the soldier by the wrist. Depite the intense pain in Matt's arm, he hung on to the wounded soldier. The helicopter asceneded higher and higher into the sky. The soldiers inside the craft all helped, and slowly began to pull of the rope ladder. Matt could feel his grip becoming looser. He gripped harder, but the soldier was slipping more. He looked up, hoping they were nearing the inside of the helicopter. They were almost there. "Hang on!" Matt ordered. The soldier's face was distorted with pain, and nodded his reply. Finally, they reached the helicopter. Matt didn't let go, and the other soldier's helped pull the wounded one up. Matt, with the help of the other soldiers, climbed into the helicopter. Matt was breathing hard. He had finally made it. He escaped his death. He would live longer, after all. Four soldiers were tending to the wounded one. Four more soldiers came up to Matt, and helped tend to his wounds. Matt winced from the pain, but endured. Just then, the wounded soldier, which Matt had saved, walked up to him. "Thanks. You saved my life, kid." the soldier said. Matt looked up at him. "Kid?" Matt asked, confused. "I'm Commander McCloud." Matt was shocked. He went to raise his hand for a salute, but was interrupted before he could do so. "At ease." the commander said. "You're a brave son of a bitch. That's admirable, captain." "Thank you, sir." Matt replied. "Commander?" Matt asked. "What is it captain?" McCloud replied. Matt dug into his pocket and pulled out a small digital camera. "I did some research on our friends down there." The commander took the small camera out of his hand and observed it. "It's proof of whats really going on down there." The commander put it in his pocket. "Good job, captain." the commander replied. "Thank you,sir" "Now, get some rest. Your coming home, kid." Matt nodded and saluted, before the commander left. He looked around for Mia. He saw her. She was in a corner of the aircraft, her arms were crossed, and her eyes were closed. He was glad to see she was ok. A small smile formed on his face, and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The soldiers were stitching his deep knee injury, and patching up his arm. His pain was agonizing, but the thought of Mia drove it away. They quickly came to a finish, and had his serious wounds bandaged up. He glanced over at Mia, and walked to her. He sat down beside her, and leaned his head back against the helicopter wall. Mia opened her eyes, and looked up at Matt. She smiled, and lightly kissed him on his cheek. Matt glanced down, and blushed a little. She giggled softly. Matt smirked He wrapped an arm around her shoudler and drew her close. She laid her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes, but didn't fall asleep. She felt protected for the first time in a while. Not just from the soldiers that had saved them, but the one that was next to her as well. She looked back up to Matt, and found that he had fallen asleep. She smiled, and held his hand in hers. She laid her head back on his shoulder and closed her eyes. The sun was rising to a new beginning. A hero had arisen and saved a whole country from a rising evil. Justice would bring in a new day, and a new hope would be bestowed to all......  
  
~The End~ 


End file.
